


head full of doubt, road full of promise

by corporate_hotline



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, Drowning, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Post-The Raven King
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:41:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25277881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corporate_hotline/pseuds/corporate_hotline
Summary: you were born here, you live here, you will die herenothing will change thatpathetic.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53





	head full of doubt, road full of promise

**Author's Note:**

> title is an avett brothers song from my pynch playlist hehe
> 
> it’s like 1am and for some reason i have the need to post this instead of letting it sit in my drafts for another week. welcome to me writing a million things really quickly after not writing at all for three years. sorry if this seems rushed, it's because i'm impatient <3
> 
> this was inspired by a real-life nightmare of mine lol. if reading about drowning might trigger something for you, maybe don't read this.
> 
> anyways, this is once again only edited by me so i apologize for any mistakes. this also was written entirely from the hours of 12-3am on a tuesday morning, so idrk if i was all that coherent. and i have been seriously doubting my writing skills recently so this might not even be all that good! but i’m posting it anyways bc why not.
> 
> i'll shut up now. enjoy!~

Most nights, when Adam slept at the Barns, Ronan’s dreams were rather docile. Adam’s presence generally calmed him, and his dreams were light and happy. He rarely brought things back unintentionally, and if he did slip up, he would wake up with only a harmless flower or stone clutched in his fist. Most nights, with Adam, Ronan was at peace, and so were his dreams.

Tonight was not like most nights.

Tonight, Ronan dreamt of a lake. He must’ve been underground; he couldn’t see the sky. Where there might have been sand or grass at the water’s edge, there was instead some smooth rock covered in moss that was bright, vibrant green. The water itself was clear, allowing him to see down to the very bottom. There were jagged black rocks that seemed to be covered in glowing blue algae. Ronan did not touch the water, but he knew that if he did, it would be almost uncomfortably warm. How he knew that, he didn’t know.

Ronan himself was in a small wooden boat, far enough off the shore that the lake was impossibly deep, but not so far where he couldn’t see the moss. Adam sat across from him, staring at him. He looked beautiful. He always does, in Ronan’s eyes. But something about the cool glow from the water made him look especially ethereal. 

He looked beautiful, but he also looked wrong. His eyes were cold and empty. Where Ronan usually saw care and affection, he was only met with a dead stare. 

This Adam did not love him.

“Where are we?” Ronan asked. He was not particularly loud, but his voice reverberated off the cavern walls regardless. Adam continued to stare.

“ _Te creavit. Non quaeris a me._ ” It was Adam’s voice, but his mouth did not move. Whether it was just in Ronan’s head or somehow spoken aloud in the cavern, he was unsure. Either way, it made Ronan shiver.

“Whatever,” he said, his voice wavering more than he wanted it to. He knew that his dreams fed off his emotions. Whatever feelings he gave it, it would return them back to him, only stronger. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Whatever, doesn’t matter. How do we leave?”

“Not we. Me.” Adam’s mouth did move this time, the words undoubtedly coming directly from him. Ronan trembled again. It was him, it was Adam, but at the same time, it _wasn’t_. It was wrong in a way that unsettled him at his core. He thought he could always be sure of Adam, that Adam was the one thing he could always completely count on. Was it possible that he was wrong? Or was his subconscious merely playing tricks on him?

“The fuck?” Ronan whispered. The water was eerily still. Ronan could only stare at Adam. Or Not-Adam. Maybe-Adam. He still wasn’t sure.

“I can leave. I could go whenever I wanted to. You, you have to stay,” Maybe-Adam stated, sounding almost bored. Ronan blinked.

“So take me with you. Why would you leave me here? It’s an empty fucking lake.” Maybe-Adam laughed once, harsh and scathing.

“Oh, Ronan,” he said, reaching out to lightly touch Ronan’s jaw, tilting his chin up. “Why _wouldn’t_ I leave you here?”

“ _What?_ ” Ronan’s voice betrayed him, sounding unsure and unsteady. Maybe-Adam smirked at that, evil and cruel and wrong, wrong, _wrong_.

“You’ll always be here. You can’t possibly move on. How can you expect me to stay with a man that’s as stuck as you are?” His grip on Ronan’s chin was no longer soft, roughly tilting his head at an uncomfortable angle. Maybe-Adam leaned forward, hot breath ghosting over Ronan’s cheek. “You were born here, you live here, you will die here. Nothing will change that. _Pathetic_.”

Ronan shut his eyes hard as Maybe-Adam spat out the last word. He couldn’t stand to look at him. He knew, somewhere deep down, that this was just a dream. That Adam was actually sleeping peacefully next to him at the Barns. But it felt so real, so unbearably real, that Ronan had to look away.

He felt the hand on his jaw slowly release him. He opened his eyes again, only to realize that Maybe-Adam had not let him go; he had merely disappeared. Ronan turned left and right, scanning the water for ripples or a sign of life, indicating Adam’s whereabouts. He found nothing. He hadn’t jumped in the water, Ronan was sure, he would have heard it. But he was still gone, somehow. 

Ronan suddenly became aware of something warm and wet at his feet. He focused again on the boat. It was rapidly filling with the clear lake water. He cursed, standing up. When he looked up to scan the lake again, the inviting green moss was no longer in view. There was nothing, no shore, no dock, no way out. The only light was from the unnatural algae, down at the depths of the lake. The water was now at his shins, and soon the little boat would be completely underwater. He cursed again, heart pounding, and jumped into the lake.

_Hot_. 

The first thing Ronan noticed was the heat. It felt like a scalding bath, prickling at his skin and flooding his senses. The next thing he noticed was that he was, undoubtedly, sinking. He opened his eyes, ignoring the sting from the strange, unnatural water. The algae’s light grew closer and closer, the boat and the surface seeming all too far away. He kicked and thrashed, trying to swim, but he failed. His clothes felt heavy, his lungs felt empty. The pressure pounded at his skull, clouding his thoughts. 

_You were born here, you live here, you will die here._ Adam’s voice played in his head again and again. His lungs burned. It was too much. His mouth opened against his will, and the water rushed in, filling him. _Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic_. His vision grew dark.

Ronan snapped his eyes open with a gasping breath; he was no longer in the lake. He woke up in his bed at the Barns, his room filled with golden morning light. He blinked once, twice. It dawned on him that he could not feel the rest of his body.

_Shit_. He had brought something back. He wasn’t sure what, he just had to wait for his body to regain feeling to assess the situation. Ronan strained to look to his side, searching for Adam. He wasn’t there, which was not unusual, Adam often got up early out of habit. It was probably for the best, too, as Ronan was still unsure what he had brought with him. He wiggled his toes experimentally. It worked. He noticed that he was wearing socks, which he was sure he had not had when he fell asleep. He also noticed that those socks felt incredibly wet.

He desperately looked down at his body as best he could without full use of his neck. He wasn’t wearing the old t-shirt and boxers he had on last night. Instead, he was wearing the jeans and tank from his dream. And they were sopping wet. If that was all Ronan had brought back, that wasn’t bad at all. At least he had not brought a lake into the middle of his bedroom. That would require a lot of cleanup.

Ronan tried to inhale deeply, to clear his head. He felt himself choke slightly. It was not uncommon for him to struggle to breathe for a while after a dream. But this felt different. He focused hard on his breathing. In through his nose, out through his mouth. It was becoming increasingly difficult. He thought about his dream, about what could be choking him like this. He thought of his wet clothes. He thought of the water surrounding him in the dream. And then he knew.

Ronan was drowning.

He had not just brought back the water on his clothes. He had brought back the water in his throat, in his lungs. He coughed desperately, trying to clear his airway. His ears popped from the pressure, despite not being underwater. His head hurt, his body ached, his bones and muscles being crushed by the invisible water. He clawed at his throat, having regained motion of his arms at some point, but he continued to splutter miserably. 

Ronan’s vision started going spotty, his head empty and unnaturally calm. He could only think of Adam, just as he had in the dream. He was probably downstairs in the kitchen, making coffee or starting breakfast. Ronan was dying, and he was probably none the wiser. Probably.

At that moment, as if Ronan had summoned him somehow, Adam opened the bedroom door and shuffled in. “G’ morn— _Oh_ ,” he gasped, his gaze finally falling on Ronan’s flailing, wet body. “ _Shit_ , Ronan, oh my _God_.” He rushed over to the bed, turning Ronan on his side. 

Ronan coughed, and coughed, and coughed some more, water pouring out of his mouth and onto the floor next to the bed. He felt himself gagging on the sheer volume of liquid in his throat, his stomach lurching uncomfortably. He retched, still struggling to breathe, but all that came up was more water. Adam was frantically smacking his back, trying to get it all out. His eyes were wide with panic and worry, his other hand gently holding the back of Ronan’s head. Ronan took a shuddering breath and weakly coughed once more before his hand came up to Adam’s arm, his fingers slowly wrapping around it. Adam stilled as Ronan’s breathing became more even. “Are you okay? Can you breathe? Can you talk?”

Ronan pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. He nodded. Adam put his hands on Ronan’s shoulders and bent to look him in the eye. “No, I need to hear you,” he said. “Are you okay? Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” Ronan rasped. “I’m fine, Adam, I’m sor—“He was cut off as Adam’s arms wrapped tightly around him. He felt the other boy exhale heavily against him, tension leaving his body. Adam was shaking slightly.

“What _happened_?” Adam whispered against Ronan’s neck. 

“Just a dream,” he replied softly. “I was drowning, and I guess I brought it back. I’m sorry.” Adam drew back, and Ronan noticed his eyes were wet. He was sure he could feel tears on his own cheeks. It was vulnerable, and raw, and embarrassing. He hadn’t brought anything back for a while now. He told himself he wouldn’t make Adam worry about him, not when he had a million of his own problems to sort out. Ronan told himself he would never be a burden. And yet, here they were. Ronan looked away. 

_Maybe-Adam was right. Pathetic._

“Don’t apologize.” Ronan’s gaze snapped back to Adam. “As long as you’re okay. Don’t be sorry.” His voice was firm but not unkind. Ronan nodded numbly. “Can I ask what the dream was about?”

Ronan wished he wouldn’t. Ronan wished Adam could just be okay with Ronan being okay. But he knew Adam, he knew that he wouldn’t calm down unless he knew all the facts, unless he knew how to solve the problem. 

The issue is, Ronan wasn’t sure Adam could solve this one. Because technically, Adam was the problem. 

It was not that Adam had any control over it. He was not at fault for anything. Ronan loved and trusted him with every bone in his body, and he knew Adam would never hurt him, at least not intentionally. But Adam was still leaving. And Ronan was still staying here. 

These past few months had been more than Ronan could have ever asked for. Having Adam with him at the Barns, healthy and safe and _happy_. Being able to touch and kiss him whenever he wanted. Wanting Adam and being allowed to act on it. Adam wanting him back. 

But it was mid-July now, and August seemed so catastrophically close. Adam would leave him, would make his way to Cambridge and not look back. It was what he had worked for his entire life: a way out. And while Adam was off taking Harvard by storm, Ronan would still be here, in his childhood home, with no high school diploma and no plan. 

He would never ask Adam to stay, he knows how hard he worked. But Ronan has mentioned, once or twice, the possibility of Adam coming back. A lot had changed in a short time. Neither one of them was the same person they were a year ago, and Ronan knew he was important to Adam. But so was his education, so was his lifelong dream of leaving Henrietta and never returning. Ronan wasn’t the same person he was a year ago, but he still wasn’t sure he was a _good_ person, at least not yet. 

How could he possibly ask Adam to come back for _him_?

Adam seemed to notice Ronan’s hesitance, and he nodded once, more to himself than to Ronan. “Okay,” he said gently. “It’s okay, you don’t have to. Here, you’re shivering.” Adam’s hands tugged at the hem of Ronan’s wet shirt. Adam’s right, he was shivering, but he wasn’t sure it was because he was cold. He lifted his arms regardless, allowing Adam to strip him. Adam took off his jeans and underwear next, careful and patient, and he brought the pile of clothes into the bathroom to dry. He returned with a clean hoodie and boxers, which Ronan put on slowly before sinking back down onto the damp mattress. Adam sat next to him, placing one hand lightly on his thigh. 

“You were there,” Ronan said quietly. His voice was strained and thin, and he cursed himself for sounding so weak. He continued anyway. Adam deserved to know. “You were with me, and we were in a boat in some underground lake or something. I asked you where we were and how we could get out. You told me you could leave, but I couldn’t. I told you to take me with you. You— you said no. You told me I was stuck there, I would always be stuck there.” He paused, biting his lip. “You said I was pathetic, and that there was no way you would stick around somewhere like that for someone like me.” The last part came out rushed, and his voice cracked slightly as tears threatened to spill onto his cheeks again. He felt Adam take in a sharp breath.

“Ronan-“

“I know, it’s stupid, I’m sorry,” Ronan croaked, tears falling freely now. He hated crying, especially in front of other people, especially in front of Adam. He hated that he was this upset over a stupid dream. He hated that he had no control. He hated himself.

Adam’s arm wrapped around his shoulder and pulled him forward until Ronan had his face buried in the crook of Adam’s neck. His other hand came up to cup the base of Ronan’s skull, his thumb lightly tracing back and forth over the soft hairs on his neck. Ronan allowed himself to cry softly into Adam’s t-shirt, safely out of view from his pitying gaze. 

“Ronan,” Adam started again. “Please stop saying you’re sorry. You didn’t do anything. You have nothing to be sorry for.” Adam shifted, taking Ronan’s face in both of his hands to look at him directly, thumbs swiping across Ronan’s cheekbones. “I love you. You know that, right?” 

Ronan nodded. 

“Good,” Adam said. He leaned forward and kissed him, soft and chaste, before pulling back and looking at him again. “I’m coming back, Ronan. I’m not leaving forever. I don’t want that anymore. What I want is you, here. Okay?”

Ronan swallowed. “But you _hate_ Henrietta, you hate it here, and I have nothing to offer you, I have nothing to give you-“He was rambling now, and he knew it. But Ronan was never good with feelings, all he knew how to do was bottle things up until they burst, and this was him bursting. Adam knew it, too. 

“Stop. You don’t have to offer me anything. You’ve given me everything I could have wanted and more already. You are enough, Ronan. You are _more than enough_ , just the way you are, so please. Don’t.” Adam wasn’t quite crying, but his voice was trembling all the same. He was so different from the Adam in Ronan’s dream. His eyes were alive and full of compassion and worry and _love_ , and Ronan realized all at once how much he needed him, and how much Adam needed him in return. 

Now it was Ronan’s turn to lean in as he captured Adam in a kiss. It wasn’t rough, wasn’t hungry or needy. He kissed Adam with all the emotion he could muster, hoping he would get the message. Ronan was never good with his words, choosing instead to use action whenever possible. But some things just need to be said, not shown. He pulled back. 

_You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen. You are so full of love and caring and kindness that sometimes it scares me. I don’t think I will ever truly be worthy of you. You deserve the best the world can offer, you deserve everything_. But he didn’t say all of that. Instead, he simply said, “I love you, Adam. Thank you.”

It wasn’t the first time he said it, far from it. Ronan wasn’t scared to say he loved him, he wasn’t afraid of lying. He knew he loved Adam, and he knew Adam loved him back. They just weren’t that type of couple. They didn’t throw it around casually, because those words carry a weight that the two of them will never underestimate. When they say it, they mean it fully, and they want the other to _know_ how much they mean it. 

Ronan Lynch loves Adam Parrish. Adam Parrish loves Ronan Lynch. They both know that they will be sure of that until the day they die.

Ronan allowed Adam to pull him downstairs, allowed him to place a coffee in his hands and sit him down on the couch. Ronan’s throat and lungs still hurt, his head still pounded. But as Adam curled into his side, as Opal came inside from whatever she does outside in the mornings, as the three of them sat in their cozy living room, he realized that it didn’t matter. What mattered was this, this scene, this perfect picture of their odd little family. And Ronan would get himself through a thousand more nightmares if it meant he got to keep this.

**Author's Note:**

> the latin means "you created this. do not ask me." hopefully my translation was right :)
> 
> listen. i know what you're thinking. "meg, adam would never articulate himself like that, have you seen his communication skills?" my answer? yes. but i would like to think he has ~grown~, and as someone who has the unfortunate problem of constantly falling for senior boys that abandon me come august, i feel ronan's pain, so it's nice to write a character with some emotional intelligence.
> 
> anyways, hope u liked it! once again, still pretty new to this. i was literally in shock when i saw that people liked my last fic (i was doubting that anyone would even read it lol) and ur support rlly means a lot!!! lmk if you liked this and if there's anything i can do to improve, or if there's anything you want to see from me :D
> 
> find me on tumblr @ corporate-hotline !! idk how to link things on ao3 nor do i know how to use tumblr plz teach me :P


End file.
